


The Castle I Used To Live In

by JudgeCoffee



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Depression, Experimental Style, Mild Sexual Content, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24345406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JudgeCoffee/pseuds/JudgeCoffee
Summary: While lost in the Lifestream, Cloud begins to encounter the memories of the people closest to him, and from his greatest enemy, leading him to a strange opportunity...
Comments: 14
Kudos: 26





	The Castle I Used To Live In

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this is a weird fic idea I had, with 10 pages of Sephiroth being depressed. Originally I wanted this to be longer but I couldn't really decide on where I wanted to go with it, so I've changed it to a one off for now. I might revisit it when the pandemic is over.

**The Castle I Used To Live In**

**Part One: Sephiroth - Puppet on a String**

“You really need to stop fucking my friends.”

Sephiroth glanced over the top of his screen towards where Zack was standing in his office doorway. Zack was smiling - he rarely wasn’t - with an eyebrow raised as far as it would go. What he’d said was not so much an accusation or a demand, but a statement in general, Sephiroth surmised. It wasn’t as though Zack could issue him an order; they were technically of the same rank. On top of that, Sephiroth knew as well as Zack did that,of the two of them, he received the star treatment based on both seniority and prestige, while Zack was still affectionately considered the ‘puppy’ of Shira’s SOLDIERs First Class.

A dangerous and effective puppy, and a beloved figure in the tight-knit family, but not someone who could make demands.

“I wasn’t aware that you had friends,” Sephiroth said, eyes drifting back towards the report still displayed on his screen. Nothing so intensive as war reports had been during the conflict with Wutai; these were monster reports, security breaches, some notes of uppity would-be home-grown terrorists… All far beneath him, and by extension, beneath SOLDIER. Problems that could be put down with a flick of their wrist - or, in his case, a snap of his fingers.

It would be harder to reach the locations than to take care of the problems when they arrived.

“Oh, ouch. Nice to see you in such a good mood,” Zack said, taking it as an invitation as he walked inside, took a stack of unread reports from Sephiroth’s chair, and set them on the floor. Quite possibly the only clear spot  _ on _ the floor, since most of Sephiroth’s office had stacks of paperwork meticulously organized over every available surface. It wasn’t especially inviting for guests, and Sephiroth liked it that way.

Which was why Zack moving anything made Sephiroth wince internally, which Zack almost seemed to sense as he held up his hands in a gesture of supplication before he smoothed out the papers to make sure none were wrinkled. “No need to be anal. I’m sure whoever submitted…” He peered down in the dark room, trying to read the title of whatever was listed below, “the Corel Risk Assessment Report and Recommended Actions won’t be offended that it sat on the floor for ten minutes. I didn’t  _ fold _ anything.”

“Mhm,” Sephiroth said with a sigh, sitting back in his desk chair and brushing his hair over his shoulder. “It does need to be taken care of. To determine if it is worthy of SOLDIER’s attention.”

“I’ll bet you five hundred gil it’s not,” Zack said, his grin spreading from ear to ear.

“I don’t gamble often, but I know a bad bet when I hear one,” Sephiroth said, shaking his head. “You could help, you know. By submitting your battlefield reports on time. It helps simplify the data-”

Zack groaned loudly until Sephiroth stopped talking. He opted not to bother pressing further. Zack was, after all, young. Sooner or later he’d learn the same lessons Sephiroth had. That once the glory and the shine of hero worship wore off, there was only one thing left: the paperwork.

“You’re not turning this around on me,” Zack said, once he appeared certain Sephiroth’s lecture was not going to continue. “I’ve been assigned to the Infantryman Training Assistance Program. You’ve got a  _ bad _ reputation there, my man.”

Almost,  _ almost _ , that made him laugh.

“And yet there appears to be a never-ending supply of interest,” he said, completely deadpan, rather than rising to the bait.

Sex was, now that the war was over, the only thing left that didn’t completely bore him. When he had been a young ‘hero’, it had been flashy. Men and women threw themselves at him in equal measure, wanting to ‘reward him for his service’. It had been fun, relaxing even, finding some release in ways the battlefield didn’t offer. It was all endorphins, he knew from a logical standpoint, but there had been something thrilling about the idea of people finding him desirable.

No matter where he went, at least one person viewed him with lust in their eyes, even over their admiration. He was good at spotting them; it wasn’t all that different than seeing an enemy on the battlefield who recognized him and wanted to make a name by killing him. That subtle moment where the cogs in someone’s brain clicked to ‘I could have him’. He loved that moment. Both led to a similar conclusion - sweaty bodies and either disappointment or the surge of adrenaline that made him feel truly  _ alive _ .

Disappointment was far more common these days. There were no more crowded battlefields and Wutai soldiers who came en mass to throw themselves on his sword… And with the war over, he’d lost something on the personal side as well. A subtle hope he always had when he picked a partner that maybe,  _ maybe _ , they would be a Wutai spy hoping to stab him in the gut while they were in the throes of passion. To try and slit his throat as he came.

He couldn’t think of a single fantasy he had more often than being entangled with someone with a knife under their pillow. To be distracted, so close to the edge of orgasm, with their mouth on his skin, only for lips to be replaced by the cold blade of a knife. To have to struggle, still inside them, and pin them down before they could do it again – and hoping all the while that they would. To hold them against him, grinding down against their body as they drove the knife into his chest, until he got a hand around their throat so that he could choke the life out of the worthy adversary who had lured him in with the promise of relief…

It had never happened. With the war over, it probably never would.

The willing participants never went away, though. And they would always do  _ anything _ to please him, in hopes that they might be able to spend time basking in his glory for a little longer. Or in the vain hope that they might be ‘chosen’ for something more than a one-time fling.

None of them were that special. The most that some could claim they were ‘different’ or ‘slightly more fun’ or ‘certainly much worse’. There was no actual challenge involved with any of it, and why would there be? He was beautiful, objectively. He enjoyed being beautiful – clearly set apart from anyone else from the moment someone laid their eyes on him.

Like a colorful snake full of venom. 

In war, his enemies scattered, or charged at him with everything they had until he could taste their blood in his mouth, and feel the surge of power in his veins as he cut down wave after wave of them. Every inch he came closer to his own death was twice the thrill of any other moment in his life. An adrenaline shot to his heart like jumping off a cliff and pulling the parachute when it was almost too late.

Orgasm was the same, just with lower stakes. And low stakes meant it was getting as dull as his everyday mundane tasks had become since the war ended, and his most dangerous allies – not equals, but still allies – had abandoned him.

Friends. He’d had friends who  _ almost _ understood what it was like to be special. Zack and some of the new First Class SOLDIERs weren’t on the same level as Genesis and Angeal, but they still had some sense of being different. Being unstoppable. Being an unparalleled machine that brought death and leveled destruction in their wakes…

Weapons of mass destruction who just had so, so much paperwork to do.

“Seph,” Zack said, offering a nickname that Sephiroth instantly hated, “that’s because you’re  _ you _ . Of course they’re going to be interested. But we also have to work with them, so could you maybe like, at least learn a name or two? Is that too much to ask?”

“Why? I rarely see them,” Sephiroth said, and these days it was true. He didn’t go out on missions very often – they were so soul-crushingly boring that he didn’t see the point. He could hop in a plane for twelve hours to some backwater town, be there for two hours to hunt down a monster that would take him two seconds to immolate, and then take another twelve hour ride back to Midgar with nothing to show for it but bad coffee and some split ends. A second or third class SOLDIER could do that.

“You’re sort of like talking to a wall sometimes, you know that?” Zack said, resting his elbows on the desk and putting his head in his hand. He did look like an impetuous child when he did that. “Can’t you just get a boyfriend or a girlfriend or whatever and stop damaging morale? Or like, even three or four, I don’t care, but if I get one more infantryman crying in the shower because he gave you a blowjob that you don’t remember, I might actually have to kill you.”

“Promise you’ll try?” The threat, however innocent, did make him smile.

The only way Sephiroth ever slept with the same person twice was if he genuinely couldn’t remember what they had looked like, but Zack didn’t need that kind of detail about his life. He might have figured it out anyway, if the crying infantryman in the bathroom was any sign.

“You’re a bad person,” Zack said, rolling his eyes, but he was still smiling. Likely the Infantrymen issue was more annoying than anything he was actually concerned about – but then, it had been a while since Sephiroth had seen Zack genuinely upset about something. Not since what he had been through in Banora, one of the few things Sephiroth regretted. He should have been the one to put an end to that.

The one time in his life he  _ hadn’t _ wanted to fight…

“Look, I’ve been in a relationship for like…” Zack paused, probably forgetting, “a  _ while _ now, and do you see me moping around in the dark, staring at my computer like I’m ‘oh so cool and moody and mysterious’? And ordering in takeout five times a week? No. I go out, I  _ interact _ with her, I get to see the city I love and spread some joy-”

“You forget to turn in your reports-”

“ _ And _ ,” Zack skimmed over the last bit, “I actually get to know another person. You know, like, connect on a deeper level. With someone I enjoy spending time with. Whose name and appearance I remember the next day.” He spread his fingers, almost seeming hopeful that Sephiroth would be intrigued. “Like  _ people _ do.”

“And how is your little flower business going? The Midgar beautification project?” Sephiroth asked, hoping the question would distract Zack from his current line of thinking. He could certainly remember the last person he’d slept with… probably. The… blond? He might have been blond. Sephiroth would remember if he saw the infantryman, almost certainly.

Probably.

“Just fine. I even made Aerith a wagon so that she can get around easier. Because I care about her, and when she smiles…” The distraction almost seemed to work, because Zack certainly did get a lovesick look over his face as he sank into his lady-love’s eyes despite the fact she wasn’t present. It didn’t hold him long, though, because he pointed directly at Sephiroth, wagging his finger. “I refuse for you to act like you can’t have that because of  _ paperwork _ . You’re like… twenty something, you’re not an old man.”

“And you’re not my father, when last I checked. I didn’t expect you to start asking me when you’d see some grandchildren running around the facility,” Sephiroth said, idly tapping his screen back to life as it went to sleep.

He didn’t want to think about Hojo asking that question differently. When the doctor wanted to know about grandchildren, it was usually more in the vein of ‘Do you think there is some potential you could have impregnated one of your female partners?’, which was something Sephiroth went well out of his way to avoid. Hojo almost certainly tracked them down through surveillance without any help from Sephiroth – he was persistent like that.

Hojo had never once let him keep anything for himself. No secrets. ‘Not from me.’

“Nope, but you  _ are _ a walking HR complaint just waiting to happen,” Zack said, sighing and throwing up his hands. “Seriously, man, come on. You’ve got to have  _ something _ else going on in your life. I know the last while has been… let’s go with  _ rough _ , but we’re friends aren’t we? We could go and hang out. Maybe have dinner, you can meet Aerith, it’ll be great.”

And he did sound so, so genuine. It was hard to say no, but Sephiroth had read one of the preliminary Risk Assessment Reports when Zack had started seeing Aerith. The Turks had submitted a rather lengthy record of their ongoing surveillance of the last Ancient, and Hojo had even posited a scientific study on the potential “breeding” from a new SOLDIER First Class and an Ancient.

Sephiroth hadn’t been meant to see that request, but Hojo also didn’t password protect his personal computer nearly as well as he believed he did. “JENOVA12345”. Sephiroth had cracked it when he was twelve.

‘No secrets,’ Hojo had said.

“ _ It would of course be more prudent with to pair the Ancient with the far superior DNA from the Project-S SOLDIER for optimal results. However, it would be acceptable and perhaps bear more fruitful results if the specimen continues a voluntary relationship with a SOLDIER, even if it is an inferior design _ .”

Sephiroth doubted informing Zack of any of that would leave the company’s favorite puppy in any kind of positive headspace, so he opted to not mention it. He especially didn’t want to mention that he had vague memories of Aerith from his childhood – though  _ very _ vague. A sad eyed little girl with brown hair who had only been referred to as ‘The Ancient’ or ‘The Child’ by Hojo. They hadn’t talked. Why would they? Sephiroth hadn’t been allowed to speak with anyone. Not really.

A little girl in a cage with needles in her arm. He could relate. But he couldn’t be her friend.

‘ _ You’re special, Sephiroth. Can’t you feel it? There is no one like you in the entire world. Your mother would be so proud of you. _ ’

“I’m afraid I’m not exciting company. Unless you’re interested in being swarmed by reporters and fans looking for a picture, which I’m certain will be very impressive for your girlfriend,” Sephiroth said, his eyes drifting back to his screen where he pulled up his emails.

Four thousand unread.

He closed it again.

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” Zack said, looking like Sephiroth had just kicked him.

“Believe me, it is,” Sephiroth said, shrugging.

Zack frowned, tapping on the table. “You really hate it, huh?”

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. “It?”

“Being a hero,” Zack said. “All this… stuff. Everyone always coming to you first for everything. Everyone wanting to be you. You’ve barely smiled since…” With a sharp glare from Sephiroth, Zack left off Angeal and Genesis’ names. “I don’t know, man. You just seem really unhappy. And I don’t know that banging your way through the entire Shinra army is helping.”

“Happiness is relative,” Sephiroth said, sitting back in his chair. “I’m only… bored.” Since the war ended. Since Angeal and Genesis were gone. “And believe me, the glory is not what it’s cracked up to be.”

“So, what do you want to do?” Zack asked, as though it was simple.

Not even Gast had asked him that.

“Besides never answering another email?” Sephiroth asked, chuckling. “Never being asked for another interview? Or taking another photo?”

“Give yourself a haircut, no one will recognize you,” Zack suggested.

“What a cruel suggestion,” Sephiroth said, brushing idle strands back over his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Your pride and joy. All of that’s what you  _ don’t _ want to do, though. You don’t want to go out, you don’t want to look at your emails, you don’t want to come have dinner with me and Aerith. What do you want?” Zack asked, knocking on the table.

Sephiroth sighed, standing up and turning off his screen. “Something no one can give me.” He brushed past Zack, heading into the hall.

And of course, Zack followed. “Oh,  _ come on _ . Stop pretending to be cool!”

“I’m not pretending, Zack,” Sephiroth said, glancing at him over his shoulder and tapping his forehead. “Pretending would take an effort.”

And nothing took an effort anymore. Or maybe nothing ever had.

~~

Sephiroth’s daily routine had been almost the same since he was fourteen years old. The only real changes had stemmed from what he realized he could get away with as soon as Hojo wasn’t hovering over him. As soon as all of his colleagues respected him enough to leave him alone…

The routine was thus.

Nightmares. They’d been small nightmares when he was younger, voices whispering to him as he slept, calling for help even though he couldn’t reach them. He didn’t always remember them - he mainly just remembered waking up in a cold sweat, so much so that he’d thought it was normal until he’d spent enough time in close quarters with other people to realize it wasn’t.

The voices became clearer as he got older. Crisper. “Please, help me,  _ please _ …” Like twelve million fingers reaching out for him in the dark, grabbing hold of him and pulling him deeper even as he tried to pull them out. To take them somewhere safe. “ _ Please _ .”

And so, every day started with him waking from a nightmare.

Younger versions of him didn’t have access to coffee, but older versions did, and so caffeine helped where sleep failed him. Always after a shower, so hot that it made his skin burn when he was younger - but he didn’t feel it anymore. Not like he used to.

That had damaged his skin, or so Hojo told him, ‘ _ And how will anyone appreciate you if you don’t treat yourself well _ ?’ So he had more skin cream than anyone he had ever met. ‘ _ Can’t have you looking like a second-rate hack _ .’

That had been hard to keep up during the war, but as he grew more famous, he grew more removed, and as he grew more removed, it got easier.

Then, there was his hair. The longest part of his morning. He didn’t mind that part. Standing in the shower and trying to get the ringing out of his ears. It was slow. Methodical. Sometimes he thought he might have only let his hair get so long so that he could spend more time there. Where nothing mattered. Where all he had to think about were his own fingers on his own scalp.

But then Hojo figured out what he was doing and had bought him two crates of different products to try. Encouraging him. It had almost ruined the effect for Sephiroth, but it was  _ his _ choice, even if it was one Hojo encouraged. ‘ _ You’re special. Everyone should know it. Image, my boy. Think about your image. _ ’

There was a difference between Hojo’s opinion of an image and Sephiroth’s, and it was really very simple. Hojo wanted a star, a glorious figure for SOLDIER’s posters and recruitment videos.

Sephiroth wanted to be imposing. Doubtlessly who he was.

It made the sex easier, and the terror on the battlefield… different. A different taste when everyone knew where to find him. He didn’t hide. He invited them.  _ Come and get me. You know who I am _ .

Useful in his job, useless everywhere else. At the coffee shop where the girl who took his order was too intimidated to remember his order until the fourth time he explained it, over-articulating as she looked into his eyes and trembled. It wasn’t much different when he picked up food or went out. Regardless of whether he was recognized or not, they would look into his eyes – craning their necks to ask him if he wanted change. Always trembling, sometimes with fear.

Sometimes they just wanted to fuck him, but were too afraid to say anything.

“Coffee for Mr… Mr. Roth?”

Three shots of espresso and a blowjob in the bathroom later, and there was the routine again. He’d go to the gym, only with the other SOLDIERs First Class. No seconds or thirds. Run the track, though that he did alone, go to the training simulator like he’d used to do with…

“Hey! Sephiroth!” 

Instead he had Zack, which wasn’t a bad thing. Not really.

Zack was different. He wasn’t disappointing.

_ Well, that’s overstating it _ . Everyone was disappointing. Zack just made him laugh sometimes. And it occurred to Sephiroth that Zack even believed they were friends. Not like Genesis, jealous and petty… More like Angeal.

Different sense of humor, but still funny. And he supposed, ultimately, the closest thing he  _ did _ have to a friend.

“You going into the training room today? I can join you if you want,” Zack said, stumbling up to him almost an hour into Sephiroth’s workout.

“Did you run all the way here from sector five?” he asked, crossing his arms and glancing over his colleague.

Ruffled hair. Sweating. Uniform buckles done up about one notch too loose. He had absolutely run there.

“Okay, maybe I did, but it’s way more fun than just running the track,” Zack said, giving a sheepish grin.

“Spent the night at Aerith’s, then?” Sephiroth couldn’t resist the gentle jab.

“Yeah, we went to karaoke and then went dancing. You should have been with us,” Zack tapped his heels together, doing a small twirl as though that proved something about his capabilities. “I am truly a master of the dance floor. She was very impressed.”

“Oh, I’m certain she was,” Sephiroth said. He didn’t really know much about dancing, he’d never made any kind of attempt at it, but from his rudimentary knowledge he’d gauge that even if Zack was a  _ terrible _ dancer he would neither notice, nor care.

“Yee of little faith.” Zack made a small ‘pfft’ sound at him, waving his hand. “But I’m totally limber and warmed up. Come on, train with me. Show me your classic Sephiroth moves. We’ll just fool around. It’ll be fun!”

Sephiroth chuckled, shaking his head and crossing his arms. “Tell you what? Land a hit on me right now, and I’ll train with you.”

Zack didn’t miss a beat, lashing out with his fist and aiming straight for Sephiroth’s torso. A good plan, quick, and going for the biggest target.

Sephiroth side stepped him completely, making Zack lose his balance and nearly fall as he over-shot on his momentum. He stumbled, about to catch himself, before Sephiroth lightly kicked the back of his knee and sent him sprawling to the ground, face-first.

He didn’t move after that, and Zack lay in stunned silence before he rolled onto his back and side-eyed Sephiroth from his position on the ground. “You’re such a dick.”

Sephiroth shrugged. “You should have come at me like you were trying to kill me. Then I might have had to parry you instead.” He knelt forward, offering Zack his hand.

“If I came at you like I was trying to kill you, one of us would have had to pay for the damages out of our paycheque. And I’m saving up for something,” Zack said, taking Sephiroth’s hand and getting to his feet. He brushed off his knees. “How many times have you had to repair the training room?”

“Enough that the equipment is all brand new now,” Sephiroth said honestly. It would have made his eyes water if he did much with his money.

“You desperately need a hobby, man,” Zack said, crossing his arms. “Put some of your effort into becoming the world darts champion or something.”

“I think  _ you _ might have too many hobbies,” Sephiroth said, turning away to head towards the locker room. He idly wondered if Zack had only come over to make sure he didn’t get side-tracked by an infantryman on his way to his office.

“No such thing,” Zack countered, following him. “Now that the war’s over, you’ve gotta fill your time with more than just work. Like once I’m done here, I’m thinking Aerith and I might open our own shop, you know? Gainsborough and Fair Flowers Corporation. Something like that. So, after work I help her out, and I do fun stuff, I let off some steam, we have a nice dinner…”

“You’re really putting all your eggs in one basket with this girl, you know that right?” Sephiroth sighed.

“You’re putting all your eggs in one basket with risk assessment reports,” Zack countered, unphased. “You remind me a lot of her in some ways, actually.”

Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed, his hand hovering at the passcode to the locker room. “What is that supposed to mean, exactly?” He thought of the lonely eyed little girl on the other side of the glass, staring at nothing with her elbows on her knees.

Zack didn’t seem to notice the glare. “You both just… I don’t know, man, she was lonely when I first met her. I could tell. Like she needed someone to talk to about stupid shit with. Not be up in her head all the time with,” he tapped his own forehead, “like you always are. I mean, look, we’re not besties or anything, but I’m not afraid of you. You’re human, like everyone. You can’t just… sit in your room moping.”

“Moping?” Sephiroth raised an eyebrow.

“Brooding? Does brooding sound more  _ majestic _ ?” Zack asked, hands on his hips. “Come and hang out with me. You can still look cool, I promise I won’t embarrass you.”

Sephiroth had been trapped with Hojo his entire life. Nothing Zack could do would embarrass him.

“Zack,” Sephiroth said, slowly, leaning against the door and looking him dead in the eye. So strange, that they had the same eyes. He’d never quite gotten used to that, when for his entire childhood they’d only belonged to him when he looked in the mirror. “Finish logging your reports.  _ Then _ you can worry about how lonely I apparently am.”

\---

The significant shift in his routine during the war had been that there was no time at the gym. He woke up, he got ready, he got on a plane and was deployed wherever the most danger called for him. A chaotic battlefield. A precision strike team. Swarms of enemy soldiers, or one valuable commander.

It was never boring, being unsure where he would be from one day to the next. Never knowing which direction the enemy might come from, or what kind of weapon they might deploy against him. Sometimes the hunt for a Wutai General would last for  _ days _ . Sometimes he’d even spent months behind enemy lines with Genesis and Angeal, sometimes only the three of them…

Before and after the war, he would sit at his desk and start answering emails. First he would move every single email from Hojo directly into his trash, then he would find any replies to group emails that involved Hojo to make sure he hadn’t missed anything important. Then he would dispose of those as well.

Once, before he was famous, he’d been able to do the next portion relatively easily. He deleted every single interview request he could find.  _ Not a ten minute exercise these days _ .

After he got bored of deleting those, he read his actual emails for anything important – which inevitably was nothing. No emergencies that required his immediate attention. No imminent crisis that required his skills. No call to action that could only be met with an unstoppable force of nature. No demands that would let him unleash himself. Rain fire on his enemies. Rend flesh from bone.

Which meant. All he had to do. Was read. Risk Assessment Reports.

Sephiroth lay his head on his desk, closing his eyes and letting himself slump forward.  _ This is what you are now _ . What amounted to an over-paid midlevel bureaucrat. All his training, all the talk of being  _ special _ , all the time and effort he’d put in day after day, month after month, year after year, putting all things aside but becoming the most powerful man the Shinra military had to offer… and that was what it amounted to.

Genesis had envied him. Angeal had been disappointed in him. Zack worried about him.

The lonely-eyed girl in a test-tube was happier than he was.

“ _ There’s more to life than just being the  _ best _ , Sephiroth. You can be so much more than whatever Hojo’s sold you _ .” He remembered Angeal lecturing him about that, though Sephiroth had brushed him off at the time.

“ _ You should tell that to Genesis. Then maybe he’ll learn to relax _ .”

Sephiroth  _ could _ relax, despite assertions to the contrary. The next portion of his routine.

He took a bottle of whiskey from his drawer and poured himself a drink, beginning to read one of his many reports. And he would read until dark. And then he would order in something to eat so that he didn’t function solely on caffeine and alcohol. And then he would keep working until he needed to stretch his legs, which was usually when the infantrymen came in – though he was opting not to that day so that Zack could take some time off Relationship Counseling – and then he would read more reports, check his email, and then go back to the training room.

By that time, it was almost always midnight and there was no one left.

The SOLDIER training room, though, had a glass ceiling that looked up at the night sky. So, he would go and lay down in the middle of the track and stare straight up at the stars. It didn’t matter if there were clouds or not. He could always feel them at night. The little beacons of light would beckon him, their light touching his face as if to say ‘we’re here, can’t you see us?’

He watched them from the floor, slowly drifting across the sky, like bullet holes in a wall when the light shone through. Thousands of different worlds, all so far away from him. And that night, the same as every night, he reached up like a child, trying to close his fingers around one of them. An empty gesture, ultimately, but the only thing that made him feel closer to them.

When he’d been a child, he’d hoped one day he might catch starlight in his hands. As an adult, the ferocity of his control over materia was essentially the same thing. Pure starlight, so powerful it could melt steel and turn flesh to ash. He wondered if he threw himself directly into the heart of a star, if it would happen to him too.

Would he feel anything, as he burned away to nothing? Or would it be so fast that he wouldn’t even know what had happened to him?

“As though I were never here…” he whispered, wishing he could stay up all night just watching the stars.

Some nights, during the war, when he was on watch, he had. He’d seen them blaze all night until the sun brushed them away in the morning, slowly fading until he couldn’t feel them anymore. Those had been the only times in his life that he’d slept and not heard screaming in his nightmares.

That would be how his routine would end, after all. He would go back to his room where the voices waited to beg for help he couldn’t give them. That was all he had, with little to no variation. The reports kept coming in. The never ending stream of bullshit from Hojo never ended. No one needed a man like him, not with no war to fight.

“What are you doing here?” he asked out loud, except when he spoke it wasn’t his voice.

Sephiroth froze, his fingers tensing. He sat up abruptly, looking down at his hands… except they weren’t his hands. He wasn’t wearing his clothes.

A sharp pain stabbed into his forehead, knocking the wind out of him and making him crane forward as he grunted in pain. So much… pain. When was the last time he had felt anything so awful? Like someone had jammed a needle into his skull and was slowly rotating it until his brain tore apart.

“Hey, buddy…”

Sephiroth looked up through his fingers as he tried to keep his head together. Tried to keep the roaring blood in his ears from pouring out of his body. His eyes felt like they were swelling, too big for his head, and things were getting blurry, except for one thing.

Zack was standing in the doorway.

“Zack?” he said with the voice that wasn’t his… except no. It was his. It was the name that wasn’t his. That was the wrong thing. It was…

“This isn’t your memory,” Zack said, approaching him and clucking his tongue. “And uh, you should go. Because if he finds you poking around, things are going to get really fucked up.”

When Cloud woke up, he could still hear the screams of the Lifestream ringing in his ears.

**Author's Note:**

> Life's hard at the top.
> 
> Special thanks to my beta Risk who patiently sat through me obsessing over Sephiroth like it's 2003, and to everyone who put up with me on Twitter.
> 
> Questions? Comments? Concerns? Did I miss tagging something because I have no idea how to mark this down? Find me on Twitter @TheJudgeCoffee or sometimes on tumblr for some reason still at http://youredgedadsareshowing.tumblr.com/


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